


Silver Linings

by Mirimea



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Police, Gen, Police, Slice of Life, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:51:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5746201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirimea/pseuds/Mirimea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Police work is nothing like Kevin Price had expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Linings

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the police!AU that tumblr user sinisterspooks created. As pointed out, I’m taking some artistic license with the rankings, and things like that (sorry!). Recently posted at tumblr, uploaded here for archiving purposes.

"It is nothing to be ashamed of," Chief Inspector McKinley says when he signs Kevin up for bi-weekly counseling sessions. "You had a rough first week. Anyone would be affected by what you went through."

Kevin presses his lips together. He is not _anyone_ , and not even _anyone_ would have had their nerves so completely shredded by something as simple as having a guy’s brain blown all over your face on your first day on duty that you end up having trouble even thinking about handling your own weapon… right?

He knows for a fact that Arnold is much too loyal to mention his sudden and disturbing troubles at the shooting range, which means that McKinley is more observant than Kevin has given him credit for. And to be honest, Kevin has yet to completely figure out his new boss, who is cheerful and friendly, and Kevin is reluctant to use the word campy, but, well. McKinley simply doesn’t seem to be anything like Kevin would have expected from a chief inspector of the police, but at the same he seems to be genuinely well-liked by the entire department, so Kevin isn’t sure what to think.

“I’m relieved that things worked out well,” McKinley continues, smiling slightly. “There’ll be an internal investigation to determine how things like these will be avoided in the future. But I feel like you and Deputy Cunningham are getting along well, at least?”

“Yes sir,” Kevin says, much more meekly than he would have a couple of weeks ago. He is not too conceited to recognize that he had been rather condescending to his new partner at first, and he hopes that McKinley’s comment is merely polite small talk rather than something more pointed. “We’re good.”

“Good, good.” McKinley flashes him another smile and waves his hand vaguely towards Kevin. “Well, you’re excused, deputy. I’ll mail you the counseling information. And.” He gives Kevin a little wink. “We’re all happy to have you here, Deputy Price. And Cunningham too, of course.”

Kevin feels like there is something implied that he doesn’t know how to respond to, so he simply nods. “Thank you, sir.”

* * *

 

“What did he want?” Arnold asks curiously when Kevin steps out of McKinley’s office. He is sitting on his desk instead of in his chair, and he seems to be entertaining himself with his cellphone rather than working on their report. He is lucky that Kevin has grown so fond of him.

“Nothing important,” Kevin replies, taking his hat from under his elbow, running a hand through his hair before putting it on. “Ready to leave?”

“Sure!” Arnold jumps off the desk. “Patrolling with my partner. S’gonna be awesome!”

“That’s right.” Kevin grins, feeling some of the pressure in his chest ease at the display of genuine excitement. “What were you doing on your phone, anyway?”

He is expecting Arnold to begin to ramble about some new game that is all the rage, so he is surprised when Arnold’s face turns red, faster and more intensely than Kevin has ever seen anyone blush before.

“You know that girl who worked in the coffee shop, from last week? Who was, well, robbed?”

How would Kevin forget the young woman who had sort of been the starting signal for everything that had gone wrong during Kevin’s first week as an actual police officer? “Miss Hatimbi? Sure.” Then his mind catches up with him and he blanches. “Wait, are you texting her? But she’s still part of the case!”

Arnold bites his lip. “Well, it’s going to be wrapped up soon. And she’s really hot.” He gestures with his hands, as if to somehow emphasize just exactly how desirable she is. “Not to mention she actually seems to like talking to me.”

The Kevin of a couple of weeks ago would have protested that it is against the rules to flirt with her. The Kevin of today merely grimaces, because he recognizes that once Arnold has gotten something into his head, there is no getting it out. “Just… be respectful to her. And don’t let anyone know until everything is completely wrapped up.”

The look Arnold gives him is nothing short of adoring, which is somehow both affirming and a little disturbing, but Kevin is getting used to it. “Sure!”

“Let’s just head out to the car,” Kevin says, patting him on the back, then waves to Gotswana and Kimbay by the coffee machine before heading out.

* * *

 

“So what made you choose to become a policeman?” The soft-spoken therapist asks after Kevin has filled in a questionnaire that is supposed to estimate exactly how traumatized he is. He blinks at the seemingly unrelated question, then blinks again, because he doesn’t think he has ever been asked that before. It is a bit confounding.

He could technically have scheduled his sessions to take place during working hours, but that would mean having to actually tell other people what he is slipping away to do. It is fine if Arnold knows, he supposes, but Kevin is still trying to impress his colleagues and seniors, and he is convinced that he can rescue his reputation. Or maybe make it better than it used to be, to be honest.

“Well, my dad is a policeman,” he says, rubbing his thumbs together where his hands are clasped together in his lap. “And his dad was one, before him. I guess it’s a family thing.”

The therapists scribbles something on her pad and Kevin wonders exactly what about that statement had warranted her taking notes. He waits for her to say something, but since she remains silent he feels forced to continue. “It’s a good job. Honorable, and you get to help people. I just… always knew I was going to be one.”

“You were at the top of your classes at the Academy,” she says, and Kevin tries not to smile too smugly at that. He had worked hard to get into the Academy, and then kept working even harder to master both the mental and physical tests. No one had questioned his motives; they had all been equally interested in graduating and everyone had been very impressed with Kevin’s performances.

His family had held a big party when he graduated, and plenty of his father’s police friends had been invited. Kevin had been introduced to several influential people, and he had convinced himself that he would be assigned to a good position right off the bat. He had tried very hard not to be disappointed when he had instead been sent down to District Nine together with, the also newly graduated, Arnold Cunningham.

But that is water under the bridge, mostly. Kevin’s first week may have been a disaster, but in return he had learned plenty of useful things, such as the fact that not everyone have an ingrained respect for the police, that following the rules will not get you where you want, and also, that true friendship is not always conventional.

In the end, he has started to let Arnold decide their approach when they’re out on patrol, because apparently people respond better to him. It is an enrichening experience, in a way, and darn it if Kevin is going to be too big-headed not to learn from it.

So he shrugs, and it is actually not difficult at all to contain his pride. “I worked hard.”

The therapist nods again, scribbles some more, and Kevin resigns himself to another thirty minutes of this.

* * *

 

“Want a Pop-tart?” Sergeant Thomas asks.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Arnold replies easily, and takes two. Kevin declines with a shake of his head.

Sergeant Thomas shrugs, and takes one from the package himself. “Suit yourself. So how does it feel to finally be out of the academy?”

“Awesome,” Arnold says and puts the Pop-tarts in the toaster that they keep in the lunch room, adjusting the temperature vaguely.

Kevin opens his mouth to respond something similar, only to realize that the word that actually comes out of his mouth is, “Fine.” He mentally panics a bit, because what? He has been looking forward to this time of his life ever since he had been old enough to grasp the concept of police work.

 “I remember when I was new,” Thomas continues, undeterred, the nostalgia practically dripping from his voice. “So young and unsullied.”

“Deputy Price got pretty sullied in his first week,” Lieutenant Gotswana says from across the room, grinning when Kimbay high-fives him.

Kevin frowns, unsure of how to reply in a way that won’t either be disrespectful or ruin the mood, because he logically knows that Gotswana is aiming for friendly banter, not mockery. Luckily, Chief Inspector McKinley steps in before Kevin has the time to say anything.

“Now, now,” McKinley chides, wagging a finger in a way that may or may not be joking. “Be nice to the new deputies, guys. They did put an end to one of the biggest drug dealers in the area. How many of you were as productive in your first week?”

Gotswana shrugs and grins; Arnold turns a bit red at the praise, and Kevin finds himself stuck with the urge to both grin and roll his eyes, because Arnold’s way of tracking the guy down had been anything but conventional. But that doesn’t matter much in the end, he thinks. Probably. Bending the rules a bit seems to be more both a more productive and successful approach, anyway.

McKinley pats him on the shoulder when he passes him on the way to the lunch room fridges.

* * *

 

The service dog is technically there to act as a comforting presence for Miss Hatimbi’s sake during the trial, not that she needs it, so instead Kevin makes full use of the crème colored golden retriever while he is giving his statement. It puts its head in his lap, looking at him with big brown eyes, and really, how can anyone be nervous when something so _pure_ is there and trusting you to take care of it?

He hunts down the handler during the break, and the dog is off-duty then, so Kevin can even mess around with it a bit.

“I’m going to ask her out,” Arnold says unconvincingly, while Kevin scratches the dog behind its ears. “Once this is all over, I mean.”

“You do that, buddy,” Kevin says absent-mindedly. “I know she will say yes.” It is embarrassingly obvious, from the way Arnold and Miss Hatimbi keep looking at each other when they think no-one else can see.

“She likes you,” the handler says off-handedly, and Kevin perks up.

“It’s a girl?” He imagines that the dog gives him a somewhat insulted look, and retaliates. “I mean, of _course_ you are.” He runs his fingers through the thick fur on its chest. “Such a good girl, too.”

“I mean--” Arnold starts, then trails off. Kevin looks up to see Chief Inspector McKinley approach.

“Great first trial, boys,” he says brightly. “This is a sure case, not that we ever doubted it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kevin says, feeling a bit undignified from where he is sitting on the floor. He picks himself up and brushes eventual dust off his pants. “We’ll be glad when it is all over.”

“Totally,” Arnold pipes up behind him.

“Great! Well, I came to tell you we need to be back in five. So, if you can tear yourself away,” he nods to the dog, grinning, and Kevin finds himself ducking his head, a bit embarrassed, because what kind of police officer takes more comfort from a service dog than the victims do?

But when he looks back at his boss, McKinley’s eyes are warm, and that is not a bad thing, right?

* * *

 

Of course Arnold is nowhere to be seen when Kevin needs him. He gives up the fleeting urge to chase after the attacker and instead comes to a halt beside the shell-shocked woman. “Are you alright, miss?”

She looks up at him, wide-eyed. “He tried to, to...”

“I know,” Kevin says, and tries to keep his voice soothing. “Are you injured?”

She doesn’t appear to be, however. She is on high heels that seem entirely impractical and her skirt is shorter than what anyone in Kevin’s big Mormon family would ever have approved of. But she is short, probably a couple of years older than him, and she is shivering, and something in Kevin’s chest is aching. When he was in training he had never truly considered the state of the world, but now he kind of is, and he is not sure that he likes it. 

“I’m fine,” she says, straightening, and Kevin watches her warily.

“Do you want to report the incidence?”

Sha takes a breath, makes sure her skirt is covering her thighs. “No. Thank you. It’s fine.”

“Miss…” he says, helplessly, and then Arnold finally arrives.

“I know where he went!” he exclaims, and both Kevin and the young woman flinch at the volume of his voice. “Let’s go!”

Kevin looks at the woman. She has brown eyes. “Are you sure? You can come by any station nearby if you change your mind.”

“Thank you,” she says. “But it’s fine, officer.”

“Well then,” Kevin says, even as Arnold is beginning to tug at his elbow. “Please look after yourself, miss.”

“I will,” he says, giving him a brief, unsteady smile, and it does _some_ thing to him. He feels shaky, and not in an entirely bad way, watches her step out onto the street before he begins to chase after Arnold.

* * *

 

Kevin Price has been able to shoot a bull’s eye with a gun since he was eleven years old. He had memorized the ‘right-to-remain-silent’ speech at twelve years old.

“I’m fine, dad,” he says into his cellphone that evening when he steps into his apartment and lets the keys fall into the bowl he keeps on the table right inside the front door. “Everything worked out well.”

“Thank God,” his dad says. “I won’t pretend that I wasn’t worried when I heard you’d be sent to that particular district.”

It is a testament to how loyal Kevin has grown to his new home, the way he feels his defenses rise at the comment. “There’s nothing wrong with it,” he says and thinks about Chief Inspector McKinley’s cheerfulness that keeps all of them going, of Miss Hatimbi, who doesn’t let her personal set-backs keep her from her work and her passions. “I’m glad I’m here. I’m learning a lot.”

He _is_ learning a lot. He is learning about poverty and how commonplace assaults are, and about women that are too proud to admit weaknesses, even to policemen.

“I’m proud of you, son,” his dad says after a moment of silence. His voice is warm, in a way that Kevin isn’t entirely used to; he feels himself blush, strangely. He ought to be used to his father’s praise by now, but this time feels different and he is not sure why.

“Anyway, I have to make dinner,” he says, bending down to take off his shoes. “Say hi to mom.”

* * *

 

Kevin doesn’t quite like the way he is becoming acquainted to his boss’ office. Chief Inspector McKinley is one of few people at the department to have his own room and apparently he uses it not only to properly organize his binders, but also to engage in some interior design. It is very colorful.

“I’m sure you know that every department should have at least one canine unit,” McKinley says, almost as a matter-of-fact, before he has even explained why he wanted to talk to Kevin in the first place. “There hasn’t been one in this area for years, though.”

“Okay,” Kevin says hesitantly.

“If you’d be willing, I can fix a formal application for you,” McKinley continues. “You’d have to get back in training for a while, but if you were to become a dog handler you would become a unique… well.” He pauses, shrugs. “ _More_ unique asset to the department than you already are.” McKinley’s sudden smile is so open and genuine that Kevin has to forcibly suppress the sudden urge to blush. “And if I may say so, I think you’d be a perfect fit for it.”

“What about Deputy Cunningham?” Kevin asks before he even allows his mind to consider another reality. He owes Arnold too much to leave him behind, and is starting to like him too much to even want to.

“You will still be partnered with Cunningham, of course.” McKinley looks thoughtful. “He’ll be assigned office duties until you get back from training, if you’d like to accept the offer.”

Kevin imagines Arnold being stuck at a desk for a prolonged period of time and feels bad for it. But, still. Logically he knows that canine handlers are not on the list to get promoted to any fancy positions, nor are they likely to receive any awards for remarkable bravery, or anything like that. But it sounds, well, it sounds _fun_.  And that is a word that Kevin realizes now that he has never considered much before when it comes to police work.

It’s a nice word, he thinks, and that knot that has been in his chest for a couple of weeks now suddenly feels like it might start to loosen.

"I'd love to," he says, before he has even considered it properly. But he is grinning, despite himself, which he thinks is probably a good sign.


End file.
